


Subtext

by GatesKeeper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Minor Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatesKeeper/pseuds/GatesKeeper
Summary: Five times Sam quietly put up with Dean and Castiel's unresolved sexual tension.And the one time he said what everyone has been thinking for years.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 573
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Subtext




The silence screams in Sam’s ears.

Normally, he’s all for being quiet in the library. But Dean and Cas are saying plenty—just without words. Every few minutes, his brother glares at the angel until Cas feels eyes on him; then Dean abruptly goes back to flipping through centuries-old pages like he’s trying to tear them out of the spine. Meanwhile, Cas’s body language is even tenser than normal—standing versus sitting like the Winchesters—and enjoying his own turn glaring at Dean.

Sam doesn’t even have a clue what they’re arguing about, but he also knows better than to ask.

He and Dean grew up living out of each other’s pockets. It made Dean generous in a lot of ways—but possessive in others. That’s why Dean makes a point of claiming the motel bed by the door as _his_. That’s why the Impala is _his_ baby. And…when it comes down to it, Cas is Dean’s too. Their relationship is not for Sam to meddle with.

That’s not to say Sam and Cas aren’t family. They hang out together all the time, share eye rolls when Dean’s not paying attention, and have each other’s backs no matter what. But they don’t share the same kind of ‘profound bond’ Dean and Cas do. Which is probably part of why they never fight.

“I know I’m pretty to look at, but that’s not the kind of research we’re supposed to be doing,” Dean challenges the angel, breaking the silence at last.

Cas turns his attention back to the tome in his hand, shrugging. “You have buffalo sauce on the corner of your mouth from lunch,” he states, casually, ignoring Dean’s scowl and the way he quickly wipes the back of his hand over his lips.

“You know, you’d be more fun if you replaced that stick up your ass with something--”

“OK, enough!” Sam interrupts, because the tension in the room is not _just_ the angry kind and he wants to stop them before they get to the pinning-each-other-against-the-wall stage, which at least _Dean_ should know is not a normal thing to happen so often between “friends.” “Cas, would you mind helping me translate this Enochian?” he asks, annoyed since it’s something he would have been able to do on his own if it weren’t for all the _distractions_.

“And Dean?” His brother reluctantly pulls his gaze from the angel, tight-jawed. “Don’t get sauce on the books.”




“Dean, he looks fine. You can stop—primping.”

“We’re going to a club, Sammy! We’ve got to blend in if we’re gonna catch whatever’s biting guys’ heads off—which means we gotta turn Mr. Holy Tax Accountant here into someone who looks like they can _get_ numbers, not just crunch them.” As they talk, Dean buttons a black vest over Cas’s royal blue T-shirt, an outfit they’d bought specifically for this case. Of course, Cas is probably perfectly capable of putting on his clothes himself, but neither he nor Sam have mentioned that.

“OK, now to do something about your hair.”

Cas glances over his shoulder at the mirror. “It’s already neat.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’ve got to mess it up,” Dean says, taking the liberty of ruffling his fingers through it. Cas seems confused, but none-the-less, lets Dean do whatever the hell he wants, which is to basically make it look like Cas just rolled out of bed.

Eventually, they make their way to the car, Dean twirling Baby’s keys around his finger before opening the door.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing,” Cas admits from the backseat. “I’ve never really ‘picked someone up’ before unless you count April. And considering _she_ sought _me_ out in order to kill me, I doubt that counts.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sunshine. I’ll walk you through it,” Dean meets the angel’s eyes in the rearview mirror and grins.

Sam winces, but tries to keep his voice light. “I actually think that he might be more successful on his own….”

“Whatcha talking about, Sammy? I’m the best teacher there is.”

“Sure you are, Dean. It’s just that….” _Every time you try setting Cas up with someone, it comes out sounding like_ you’re _flirting with him._ “So far, this monster’s been going after men who were out by themselves. Plus, we’ll cover more ground splitting up.” He almost feels like patting himself on the back for that one.

Dean frowns, grumbling a “Yeah, maybe,” and lets the swell of the radio speak the rest for him.

Suffice it to say, Sam is the one who ends up cornering and stabbing the praying mantis-like creature. When he comes out of the backroom, hoping the goo all over his clothes isn’t that noticeable, he finds Dean and Cas playing darts, their “dates” whispering conspiratorially behind their back.




“Are they having some sort of staring contest?” Donna asks more excitedly than the situation calls for as she points between Dean and Cas, standing together on the lawn. They’re all at Jody’s place in Sioux Falls, celebrating their joint victory over a vampire coven a few towns over. It’s both comforting and a little sad to be back here, within spitting distance of Bobby’s scrapyard, a late autumn sunset pinking the sky.

Sam leans against a porch railing. “No, they just sort of…do that…” he explains, lamely. “They’ll remember we’re all here in a few minutes.”

Claire scoffs from her seat on the steps, crossing her booted legs in front of her as she leans against Kaia. “Other people think it’s weird when their parents start to date again. Meanwhile, _I’ve_ got no parents but still have to watch my dad’s face have heart eyes for another dude.”

“Oh,” Donna says, blinking. “I didn’t realize they were together.”

“They’re not,” Sam tells her, twisting the cap off the beer she handed him.

Claire snorts again. “They’re not _not_ either.”

“It’s complicated,” Sam compromises. He can hear Alex’s and Jody’s good-natured arguing in the kitchen, but the individual words are too low to make out.

He glances at the young hunter sideways. “Do you think if they ever _were_ to give it a shot, you’d be OK with it? Considering….”

“Depends on what you mean by OK. I wouldn’t want to know who’s bending who over the map table, that’s for sure--”

“Claire!” Donna scolds.

“Not nice,” Kaia tells her girlfriend.

“I _eat_ on that table!” Sam reminds her.

Claire just shrugs. “But this whole suffering-in-silence thing they’re doing is pretty pathetic, so if Cas feels like he needs my blessing or whatever—I’d give it to him.”

“What are we talking about?” Jody asks, coming up behind them, carrying a plate piled high with burgers. Behind her, Alex’s tray holds veggie patties.

“We’re placing bets on when Dean is going to get over his internalized homophobia bullshit and go lay one on Cas,” Claire says, shading her forehead with her hand to look at her foster mom.

Jody’s eyebrows go up. She then turns towards the two men in question, shouting, “Dean! Castiel! Food’s ready!” and they all watch them startle slightly as they remember they’re not alone.

Before they arrive, she whispers to Claire, “I’ll put $50 on two years.”

Claire turns to Sam. “Another decade,” he predicts, depressed. “But, _God,_ I hope I lose.”




Sam hears the Impala before he sees it. Quickly, he excuses himself from the officer in charge. Cas and Dean have spent the morning interviewing the victims’ families and he hopes they have more than the absolutely nothing he’s managed to gather so far.

Cas gets out first—from the passenger side—and Sam watches with both amusement and exasperation as his brother and the angel both navigate around the front of the car, walking closer and closer together the nearer to him they get. By the time they are in front of Sam, there is probably less than an inch between their shoulders. “So, get this,” Dean begins. “The victims weren’t just random chicks. They’re the youngest in their families and Cas says there’s this….”

Sam listens attentively—but he’s always been a multi-tasker, so he also can’t help but notice that every time Dean moves to make a point with his hands, Cas’s body shifts slightly in response. When Cas moves, Dean does the same. Meaning that some part of them is _aware_ of how near they are to each other—but they’re both maintaining that last stubborn inch.

“I feel like the answer is _right there_ but we’re just not seeing it,” Dean grumbles in summary.

“We’ll figure it out eventually….” Cas soothes. “We always do.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not goddamn frustrating for everyone involved.”

Sam barely passes off his snort as a cough.




“Heard from Cas recently?” Dean asks him, holding onto the doorframe one-handed.

“Uh, yeah, he sent me a picture of a duck.”

“…a duck?” Dean repeats.

“An American Wigeon he said, but yeah, a duck.”

“Was it, like…a possessed duck?”

Sam finally looks up from his laptop, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Noooo…. Cas just likes to send me photos of animals he sees when he’s on the road. Sometimes, I find a funny YouTube video about the animal and send it back. It’s just us checking in with each other, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s good…Great… _Awesome_ ,” Dean responds, sounding like he means each word less and less. Realization settles in Sam’s gut.

“He asks about you,” he promises his brother, whose body and scowl have already turned in the direction of the kitchen—probably in search of whiskey. Dean’s grip on the door tightens, imperceptibly, and Sam realizes he might have made it worse.

“Oh yeah…? And why does he think you’re a better person to know how I’m doing than I am? Maybe, I’d be better if he let me know he hasn’t been kidnapped by any demons or stabbed by any reapers lately.” With that, he pushes away from Sam’s room, the sound of his boots echoing down the hall in both directions.

Sam shakes his head as he pulls out his phone, wondering how he wound up living with the two people in the world who were the least capable of understanding human emotions.

He presses a button. “Hey, Cas…No, don’t worry. Dean’s fine. Well, mostly fine…. That’s sort of the reason I’m calling….”

Several hours later, he enters the kitchen a bit cautiously

 _“—said I know you and you know me….One thing I can tell you is you got to be free—”_ his brother sings into the spoon he’s using to melt nacho cheese. Sam’s shoulders slump in relief.

They spend dinner criticizing each other’s eating habits, reminiscing about their old trips to Vegas, and debating which hunters could take down which Avengers—neither mentioning the sudden change in Dean’s mood.

+1

Sam comes into the Dean Cave bearing popcorn only to see Dean hastily take back the arm he had slung over Cas’s shoulders. Sam holds the bowl just out of his reach, making sure that his brother catches his eyes when he says, “You’re being ridiculous. I’m fine with you…canoodling…or whatever.”

Dean snatches the bowl more forcefully than necessary, causing a few pieces of popcorn to disappear into the couch cushions around him. “First off, no Winchester is ever allowed to say the word ‘canoodling’ ever again, got it?” he looks to Sam for confirmation and Sam gives it, only after rolling his eyes. Dean then turns to Cas, “Capiche?”

“I capiche.”

Dean glances back at his brother, “ _Second,_ I just didn’t want to make it weird for you, Bitch.”

The seriousness of Dean’s expression makes Sam laugh. “What?” he says when Dean raises his eyebrows. “Was that not supposed to be funny? If anything, you guys were way worse to be around before you figured yourselves out.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Sam sinks into his armchair, legs spread. “Come on, Dean…. You can’t tell me you’re still that oblivious.” Green and blue eyes stare at him with equal amounts of confusion. “You two have been flirting pretty much non-stop for like…15 years. 15. _Years._ Your UST could have their driver’s permit by now.”

The couple turns to each other, incomprehension still obvious. “Give me one example,” Dean demands, scoffing—and Sam can feel his carefully-maintained blood pressure rising with every second that passes.

“ _One_ example? I could give you dozens—hundreds! When has Cas ever watched _me_ sleep, huh? How many times have you, Dean, put your hand on the small of my back to _guide me_ into a room? Do you know how many times I wanted to tear my hair out just watching you _pine_ all over the damn place?”

“Dude, calm down.”

“No. I’ve _been_ calm. I’ve been Buddha-calm for over a decade watching your whole soap opera will-they-won’t-they play out. Now, I get to be excited. I get to be damn thrilled that you idiots got your heads out of your asses because you’re perfect together and it makes me happy to see you so happy.”

The moment hangs there for a moment, peaceful in a way their life so rarely is—so, of course, Dean has to interrupt it. “I thought we were here to see The Fast & The Furious. Not whatever chick flick you’ve apparently got playing in your head.”

“Fine, Dean, be like that,” Sam says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “God forbid I want the best for you.”

And yet, when he glances over during the first car chase scene, it is to see Dean’s arm back around Cas’s shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this work? Check out my other Sam POV one shots about Destiel:
> 
> [It's About Damn Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469081)  
> [New Normal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494333)  
> 


End file.
